You think you know mebetter than anyone else Like it was a contestthis pinning me liveto the wall like a butterflya single specimenYet you know only the oneI choose to be with youThe only one of me that is ableto be with you I tell you there are othersinside this one of meOthers you never seeSome of whom do not even like youSome to whom you are the enemySome who scorn youafter we have spokencontradicting the words that came from my mouthFrom the mouth of the oneyou say you knowSometimes after our conversationsloneliness descends upon meweighing heavy looming largeof not being recognizedOf not being known by anyonebecause I am so manyPerhaps all humans suffer in this wayfrom a relentless inescapable solitudethat we all must learn to bearI can only speak for my selvesfor those who live inside meThose whom you do not even beginto know.

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Saturday, June 9, 2012

Another Ghost

Robert carries a bag of shadows
around twice the size of his heart and when he gets to drinkinghe lets them all out of the bag into a great big sorrow pit filled with all the tears he never cried and he swims around with them all those shadows and he always nearly drowns But he hasn’t drowned yet i guess that’s why he keeps going back to see if maybe this time they can pull him down all the way down to the bottom where it’ll be quiet and dark and he can finally just be another ghost instead of the one being haunted Something lives inside of Robert made of all the tragedy he’s ever seen and it comes out when he drinks to keep him company and promises him a sweet trip to nowhere better than where he’s at better than carrying that bag of shadows around twice the size of his heart

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

she has a smile on her facethat says you’re sick and I’m notyou’re mentally un-welland I’m here to fix youyou’re outside the norminappropriate not balancedi will make you steadyyou’re not well calibratedwith peaks and lowsi will make you flatyou are unruly wildi will make you placidand predictablelook at me, she saysi pass unobserved i do not stand outor make inappropriate noisesi will trim your edgesso that you will fitneatly into the boxi will flatline youinto the sweet oblivionof a pollyannawho sees no darknessonly lightI will heal youde-construct and re-construct youaccording tothe gospelofnormal

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Sunday, May 6, 2012

Monday, April 30, 2012

seeing green

the green will be everywhere you know
and it’ll speak to you the same everywhere
I can hear new orleans in the leaves
no matter where they are
or maybe they're the green leaves of new orleans
calling out to me here on my mountain
suddenly I breathed the green
inhaled it and drank it down .green blood flowing in my veins that is seeing green the leaves tell the whole story if you can hear them and have green shooting out your eyes like stars the forest is a veritable bible, a sacred more sacred book it’s a green corridor filled with whisperings of all the green voices she would tell you green if she spoke every face that ever took place on this earth is in those trees every fairytale ever written about what lives here really lives here so I shall stay green here for a while longer there’s a green man riding a boat in the tree he’s every green deity there ever was every superhero who ever saw green and he’s telling me stories as he rocks on the water you’re going to be here a long time long being what it is in relation to what the world will end, start again

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Friday, March 30, 2012

I was communicating with my inner guides while working on this drawing. I was wanting to be more in control of my life. To live less in fear. Next thing i knew, i was inside the picture. I was working on it from the inside, as i listened to the chanting of Tibetan monks. They were chanting in overtones, singing all the tones that reside within one. My working on the picture and the chanting of the monks flowed into one thing. There was the disciplined detail, in lines and colors, of the picture i was drawing, and the monks chanting all of the colors within one note. The Trickster began to emerge in the drawing. Showing me that there were many ways to flow with what is going on, inside and out. And that fear makes one static and stuck, and keeps one from this flow. But it is not a matter so much of resisting and trying to block the fear, as it is a question of surrendering to it, as part of the flow. The Trickster said to me, “Don’t try to pin it all down---what is and what isn’t the flow. It’s all part of the flow, even the fear. If you sit in it, it will move on. Every instant has a flow to it. It all comes in different colors and rhythms.” “This, my child, “ said the Trickster, “is something you must learn to honor within your self and others.”

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

she wanted to do somethingto be doing somethingaccomplishing producing somethingbe able to put it out thereto the worldsaying this is who I amthis is me as I see itthe whole of methe thing you seethe entity I have becomeone for meand one for youall of medivided upnever being onebut still needingto be recognizedas somethingyou could love

i am queen and kingof the in-betweenwhere nothing is as it seemswhere dreams determinewho i am was and will bewhere there is no right or wrongbecause everything is the answerin a world that choices do not amputate

Friday, March 9, 2012

love will never be perfectit is a toothed thinga central eye that would see for twowho remain ever fragmented from each othernever hitting the bullseye middlebecause it’s all ever shiftingwhere you would think they would meet those twoan eye coming througha field of flowers or maybe bonesor rows of teethno matter how you look at itit’s still sliced upa part of you of mefor you for me and so onlove is a bony and triangular thingit brings lightit takes it backit bites and sucks life from anyone it touchesit thrives on disbelief that such a thingcould bring such joy

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

she was gone before you knew itshe was in and out of mindlike snow when it is fallingmaking all the voices blindyou saw her when she wantedyou to think that she was therethe voices in the backgroundyou never heard her sayshe was gone before you knew itbefore you knew she’d disappearshe was real you know as you areshe was never really here